Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Rays of harsh morning light peaked through the window, and a cool breeze billowed through the room, lifting the faded, flowery curtain. After hours of endless tossing and turning on the lumpy, medium sized mattress, Celine rolled too close to the edge. With a sudden thud, she fell onto the hard linoleum floor, landing right on her backside.

She groaned, rubbing her aching hip. "Where on earth am I?" she muttered to herself, squinting as she tried to find any shred of familiarity in her surroundings.

The room was suffocatingly small, painted in a peeling palette of pale cream and tacky pink. The furniture looked dull and chipped, and a thin layer of rust coated the edges of the ceiling fan and the window panes. It looked like a room in a cheap, abandoned motel.

"How did I get here?" she whispered, pushing herself up.

Suddenly, a sharp ache in her lower abdomen made her freeze. She looked down, her breath catching in her throat. She was not wearing a single stitch of clothing, and there were unmistakable traces of dried blood on her inner thighs. Her core tingled with a dull, throbbing ache.

Celine let out a muffled scream, breaking down into immediate tears. She threw herself onto the floor, crouching low and leaning her forehead against the cheap wooden nightstand. "No, no, no. I have been taken advantage of."

Gasping for air, she covered her mouth to muffle her violent sobs. "Who could have done this to me?"

Slowly, through the fog of her massive hangover, pieces of the previous night began to stitch themselves together. She remembered getting into a taxi, desperate to escape the humiliation of being fired. She remembered stumbling into a shady bar, ordering shot after shot of tequila until her brain went numb. She remembered the bartender leading her down a hallway, and then, a shadow.

The strange man.

The memory hit her like a physical blow. She remembered a towering figure in the darkness. She remembered his deep, surprisingly gentle voice calling her 'little muffin pie'.

But most of all, mortifyingly, she remembered the explosive heat that had sparked between them. She had not fought him. In her drunken, self destructive despair, she had actively pulled him down onto her. She had given in to her deepest desires, even though she could not recall a single feature of his face in the pitch blackness.

"I am such a fool," she groaned, slapping her forehead with the palm of her hand, wailing silently into the empty room. "How could I give myself away so cheaply? And to a man I don't even know?"

She had saved her virginity through four grueling years of medical school and a frantic residency, only to lose it in a trashy motel room to a nameless stranger. Pacing back and forth across the cold floor in a mix of fear and blinding anger, she tried to figure out her next move.

What if he had some kind of illness? Why would he just leave in the dead of night without a word?

"Such a heartless jerk," she wept. "He took what he wanted and fled. Why did I have to be so incredibly dumb?"

Suddenly, her phone cut through the silence, blasting its ringtone from her discarded purse. She hurried over, grabbing it and checking the screen. It was Christian.

"What is the matter, Christian? What do you want?" she snapped, forcing her voice to sound steady and adjusting her tone to mask the tears.

"The patient from yesterday, the aortic dissection, she is conscious," Christian said, his voice frantic over the line. "She is awake, Celine. And she is demanding to see you pronto. It's a miracle..."

"And what exactly does she need me for?" Celine asked, her eyes scurrying around the floor as she desperately looked for her clothes. "I am not even on staff anymore, remember?"

"I don't know, just get your butt over here immediately before she creates a massive scene with the board!" Christian ordered before hanging up the phone.

"Damn it!" Celine cursed, throwing the phone onto the bed. She began a frantic search for her dress and shoes, only to pull a mass of shredded fabric from the corner of the room. Her designer dress was torn completely to ribbons.

"What?! Is that man an animal?" she yelled at the empty walls, her face burning with fury. "He tore it to pieces! What a literal monster!"

Groaning in panic, she opened her phone and quickly ordered a simple floral dress from a fast delivery online boutique, making an immediate digital transaction. She requested the fastest courier service available. While waiting, she hurried into the tiny bathroom to scrub the remnants of the stranger from her skin.

When she stepped back into the room, she noticed something she had missed before. Sitting on the small table was a neatly packaged designer shopping bag with a document resting beside it.

Tearing the bag open, her eyes widened. Inside was a stunning pale pink bodycon dress, luxurious silk lingerie, and a pair of elegant designer shoes. Beneath the clothes lay a complete kit of basic makeup materials, a new toothbrush, toothpaste, luxury lotion, and body wash. Celine stood stunned.

"What, he actually planned this?" she murmured, a small, involuntary smile tugging at her lips. But the moment she picked up the document beside the bag, her smile turned to ash.

It was a bank cheque for an astronomical amount of money, accompanied by a brief, unfeeling note.

Celine’s blood boiled. "Does this bastard think I am a common slut?!" she screamed, her voice cracking with rage. Without hesitation, she ripped the cheque and the letter into tiny, unreadable pieces, scattering them across the floor.

She swore to herself that she would sue this disgusting motel the second she handled her business at the hospital.

After pulling on the pale pink bodycon dress, which fit her curves with perfection, she reached for her purse. That was when she noticed another fat wad of cash lying right beside her bag.

She scoffed in absolute disgust, shoving it into her purse anyway out of sheer spite. "Men will always be men," she whispered, shaking her fist in the air. "Placing a price tag on my dignity. We will see about that."

An hour later, after a tense taxi ride filled with Celine's endless muttering and ranting, the driver practically accelerated away the moment he dropped her off at the hospital entrance, visibly relieved to be rid of her.

Celine pushed through the glass doors, ignoring the judgmental stares of her former colleagues, and dashed straight into the VIP terminal ward.

Inside the private room, a nurse was currently adjusting an IV cannula, checking a hanging fluid bag on a metal pole while reading a thermometer. Standing by the bedside was a young, elegant woman in her early twenties, whispering soothing, reassuring words to the elderly patient.

The moment the door opened, the young woman looked up. "The surgeon is here," she informed her mother gently.

Turning to Celine, the young lady offered a wide, grateful smile and extended her arm. "Hi, my name is Tessy. It is an absolute pleasure to finally meet you."

"The pleasure is mine. And you are?" Celine asked, her sharp eyes scanning the girl suspiciously. Why had this girl not been present during the emergency admission yesterday?

"I am her daughter," Tessy replied softly.

Celine’s eyes traveled from Tessy to the fragile woman in the bed. "Oh. Now I see why you two look so familiar..."

Before Celine could even finish her sentence, the heart monitor beside the bed let out a horrific, continuous flat line shriek. The patient's chest seized. Cardiac arrests.

"Code blue! Get the crash cart!" Celine instinctively yelled, her medical training overriding her current reality; she was fired.